Flood Zone. Dana Mentink
is?” He wanted to smooth away the furrow between her brows, the agony in her expression. “It was self-defense before. Totally different. Your ex admits that now.”
Her eyes rounded. “Have you been studying my past?”
Smooth, Dallas. Why don’t you explain how you know every detail of her life? He went for casual. “Heard it somewhere.”
She was too upset to think more about it. “Maybe I should leave here,” she whispered. “Go back to Florida.”
His pulse accelerated the tiniest bit. He said as gently as he could, “Thought you wanted a fresh start.”
“Away from the Sandoval name,” she finished. “I do, but my past seems to have followed me here.”
And did her husband’s past have anything to do with her current situation? He did not see how it could, but it was his job to find out. He’d made a promise. “There was someone else at Cora’s house who could have tampered with the pills. We just have to figure out who the woman in the photo is.”
Mia chewed her lip. “This is a nightmare.”
“We’ll fix it.”
Her eyes flickered at the pronoun.
We? When had loner Dallas Black begun to think of them as partners? The only partner he’d ever really trusted was the kind covered with fur and with a tendency to slobber. “Look who’s just hit town,” he said as Gracie broke away from Tina and ran to them, splashing through the puddles on the sidewalk.
“Hi, Mr. Dallas. Hi, Mommy. I’m here,” she announced, heading straight for Juno to give him an ear rub. “Tina said we could get ice cream.”
Mia recovered herself to give Tina a stern look.
The girl shrugged. “Sorry. I can’t say no to those dimples.”
“I can,” Mia said, her mouth twisting in sadness. “But I won’t. I think I could use a scoop, too.”
“Mr. Dallas, come on,” Gracie said, tugging on his hand. “We can get some for Juno.”
Mia’s look was enough to discourage him. “I’ve got to go right now, Gracie. Maybe another time.”
Mia’s slight nod affirmed he’d made the right choice, so why did his heart tell him otherwise? He moved close to Mia, talking low in her ear and trying not to breathe in a lungful of her shampoo-scented hair. “I’ve got a friend who works at the police department. I’ll go see what I can find out.”
She put a hand on his biceps. “I don’t want to ask you to do that for me.”
“You didn’t ask.”
He heard her sigh, sad as the sound of a blues song, as she led Gracie away without looking back, her shoulders hunched against the storm-washed sky.
* * *
Mia tried to keep Gracie occupied with the ice cream parlor and the park, but all the while her mind was racing. The police thought she’d killed her dearest friend. How could it be happening? And to inherit when Cora had blood relatives to whom she could pass her estate? The only spot of comfort was Dallas, and she had to steel herself against any connection, no matter how much she craved it. Still, she thought she could remember the feel of his hard muscled arm under her fingers—strong, solid, the steady warmth in his eyes.
You’ve seen eyes like those before, remember, Mia?
Rain began to fall a little after five, and she zipped Gracie’s jacket and insisted they return to the car where a nasty surprise awaited her. Her rear tire was flat all the way to the rim.
“Great. I must have driven over a screw or something.” With a heavy sigh, she gave her purse to Gracie to hold and got the jack and lug wrench from the trunk. Two gentlemen and a young couple out walking their dog stopped and offered help, but Mia waved with a cheer she did not feel and finished the job herself. The effort took much longer than it should have and it was nearly sundown when she cleansed her grease-stained hands with one of her endless supply of disinfectant wipes and took the road toward home.
Gracie sang “Where Does the Ladybug Live?” as the miles went by and Mia even joined in for a while, but, as darkness fell, her stress returned. No job, no way to pay the rent and now a replacement tire needed to be purchased.
Gritting her teeth, she forced the worry down deep.
“I’m hungry,” Gracie announced as they pulled into the garage.
“How can you be hungry when you ate two scoops of ice cream?”
Gracie twisted a strand of hair while she thought about it. “Dunno, but I am.”
“Mac and cheese?”
The little girl nodded as she helped Mia unbuckle her car seat straps.
Mia mentally inventoried the pantry cupboard, hard to keep stocked with a voracious babysitter and child. Fortunately, there was one box left of nature’s most perfect food. She helped Gracie from the car and hit the button to close the garage door.
Mia noted the interior door was unlocked, probably because Tina simply could not be induced to lock it. Mia sighed. Oh, to be an innocent eighteen-year-old again. Gracie pulled out her step stool and disappeared into the pantry.
Suddenly, the burdens of the day crashed in on Mia and she felt much older than her twenty-eight years. And why shouldn’t she as the ex-wife of a drug runner and now the object of suspicion for her friend’s death? Murder, murder, the word crawled through her mind. Tears threatened, but she would not allow them, not for a moment. Mothers did not have the luxury of folding up like tents. A shower. A quick five minute shower would wash off the grime from the day.
Hanging her purse on the kitchen hook and plugging in her cell phone to charge, she headed for the bedroom, removing her jacket. Finger poised on the light switch, she froze. A shadow was silhouetted in front of the window, just for a second before it slithered behind the cover of the drapes. Someone was in her bedroom.
Fear rushed hot into her gut, firing her nerves as she ran down the hallway. Behind her she could hear the swish of fabric as the intruder detached from the curtains. Feet thudded across the carpeted floor, her own clattering madly on the wood planked hallway as she raced for the kitchen, sweeping up her purse and grabbing Gracie who was shaking the box of macaroni and singing.
She seized her daughter with such force she heard the breath whoosh out of her, but Mia paid no heed. The man was in the hallway now, only a few feet behind her. Mia burst into the garage, hit the button and dove into the driver’s side, shoving Gracie over onto the passenger seat and cranking the ignition.
The interior garage door opened, and the man appeared—thin, white, crew cut. She saw him reach for the button to stop the door from opening. She would be trapped, she and Gracie, at the mercy of this stranger.
No, she thought savagely, flipping the brights on. He flinched, throwing a hand over his eyes. The door was nearly half open now. Only a few more inches and she could get out.
Terror squeezed her insides as she saw him recover and reach for the button again.
Hurry, hurry, she commanded the groaning metal gears.
This time when he reached for the button, he succeeded and the door stopped its upward progress.
He pressed it again and it began to slide down, sealing off their escape.
FOUR
Dallas listened to the rain pounding down on the metal roof of the twenty-nine-foot trailer he rented. It was a gem of a unit as far as he was concerned, far enough away from the other trailer park residents that he enjoyed the illusion of solitude. That and the fact that the river just at the edge of the property had already persuaded many folks to temporarily relocate to another trailer park on higher ground. He wasn’t completely familiar with